


On This Cold Night

by slushiepuff



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24914452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slushiepuff/pseuds/slushiepuff
Summary: Her singular presence and no other meant fewer rules. They could be Anna and Edmund. They could sit a little too close. They could speak freely.
Relationships: Edmund Hewlett/Anna Strong
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	On This Cold Night

**Author's Note:**

> So I began writing this fic about two years ago and have been working on it on and off since. And now I've finally finished it. I'm not super happy with it but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. <3

It was another autumn evening in Whitehall. Outside, the leaves had begun to fall and a chill set into Setauket. Edmund was seated next to Anna on the harpsichord stool as she practiced the instrument. It had pleased Edmund greatly to have heard Anna express an interest in learning to play the instrument and he had immediately taken it upon himself to teach her.

As it was, she had improved greatly since prior to his abduction, he had to wonder how much she had practiced during his capture. After all, by the time he had made it back from Connecticut, she had returned to her residence in Strong Manor. Perhaps one of the manor’s many rooms contained a harpsichord he did not know of, his time in the place was limited to say the least. While his curiosity urged him to ask, his mouth continued to guide Anna, pointing out the next key to play when she hesitated.

Indeed, it would have been foolish of him to mention her surely unceremonious departure from Whitehall in the presence of their current company. He resigned himself to enquiring at a later time. He glanced to his left to catch a glimpse of Richard sitting in an armchair reading with Mary and Thomas in another. Abraham had mentioned the tavern after dinner before leaving rather abruptly. Edmund could easily admit that he had lost some respect for Richard since his return and finding out that the magistrate had turned Anna out the moment it had seemed certain he would not be returning, leaving her to the mercy of one very bloodthirsty wolf. He shuddered at the thought.

Anna paused in her playing, concern passing over her face. “Are you cold, Major?”

_ Major _ . Another barrier between them created by the presence of the Woodhulls seated behind them. He had become accustomed to hearing his Christian name fall from her lips after all their nights speaking under the stars. Dismayed as he was by her use of his title, it took him a moment to fully process her question and wonder how she might have noticed the direction his thoughts had taken. However, having become more aware of his surroundings, he realized that at some point their sides had become closely pressed against each other.

Improperly so.

He blushed. “Ah, no. Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

While his reply had been fragmented at best, he wondered at the lack of stutter, flustered as he was. He was certain that his normally pale cheeks must have flushed darkly in the time between her question and his reply. He prayed the candle hid his complexion so as not to embarrass himself further.

Either his prayers had failed or something in his expression betrayed him as her concerned gaze turned perplexed before some sort of realization crossed her face before she turned her attention back to the harpsichord. Perhaps Anna had failed to notice how closely seated they were, as well, although he was gratified to find that she did not shift away and maybe he imagined it but he thought perhaps her right had pressed itself ever-so-slightly closer to his left. Nevertheless, the lack of subtlety of his embarrassment was rewarded with a pretty blush across her cheeks. If he had not been staring before, he certainly was now.

As she continued to play, he marveled at the beauty and strength before him. The candlelight dance on her skin and hair gave her an ethereal glow while the shadow defined her sharp cheekbones and the smile playing around the corners of her mouth. Her warmth seeped into him through where their sides remained pressed together. He contemplated that he might never have seen a more beautiful sight than this woman who had suffered incredible loss at the hands of the war yet remained able to smile as she learned to play the harpsichord.

For a moment he entertained the thought that in another life she might have been called Mrs. Anna Hewlett before chastising himself thoroughly for thinking such a thing. Anna- Mrs. Strong was a married woman, even if the man was a rebel, her vows deserved respect. His mind flashed to the knowledge of Anna and Abraham’s affair. No. Those were the actions of a lonely woman who had just lost her husband, he would not take advantage of that loneliness or the friendship they now shared. He told himself her friendship was more than enough. He shifted away from her with regret, it would not do for him to take advantage of her situation.

Anna gave him a questioning glance to which he offered a tight smile. He watched as her own faded away.

* * *

Later that evening, Edmund found himself restlessly thinking over his exchange with Anna at the harpsichord. The memory of the sorrow that had fallen over them after he had moved away tightened his chest, perhaps he had done the wrong thing. But no, he had moved away if not for the sake propriety then for her honor.

It would have been unseemly for a married woman to be seen sitting so closely with a bachelor, low as his prospects might be. He still felt the ghost of her warmth against his side.

Lingering on that feeling, it became clear to him that he would not be getting rest tonight. He made his way outside past the guards at the front entrance to the house and towards the platform where his telescope stood and took a seat in one of the two chairs there. Instead of looking up at the stars, his eyes landed on the empty chair opposite which he had come to think of as Anna’s.

He had found early on that in addition to the harpsichord, she had also taken a keen interest in the stars and joined him most evenings he spent at the platform. Of course, tonight he had not invited her as he had come out quite late and after earlier that evening he felt it prudent to put some distance between them. Nevertheless, he found himself glancing at what he knew to be her window. There was still a light although he saw no movement, no shadows pacing within the room. Perhaps she was reading, or maybe she had fallen asleep with the candle lit. If the light remained when he returned to his room he would knock on her door. He told himself he was simply caring for her for her wellbeing as any friend would,  she would not sleep well with a lit candle in the room.

As he made his decision, he caught a glimmer of light coming around the corner. He was not ashamed to admit that he tensed despite knowing there were guards at the entrance of the house and any would-be assassin or kidnapper would never be foolish enough to give themselves away with a lamp. It seemed the trials of his kidnapping had remained with him.

The figure approached, he immediately knew it to be Anna whose gait he could recognize anywhere, wrapped in a shawl and holding something in her hands. The sight of her made him smile and she answered in kind, glowing in the moonlight. He quickly straightened his clothes and posture.

“Edmund.” There it was, his name on her lips, it was enough to make him forget his earlier concerns. “I saw your light from my window, you didn’t say you were stargazing tonight.” 

“Yes, I apologize for not inviting you.” He made to get up but stopped by the gentlest of touches on his shoulder that quickly fell away. “I hadn’t planned on it, but I found myself restless and thought some fresh air might be beneficial.” It was true, he had been restless and the fresh air had indeed helped, although now he was somewhat distracted by the impression on his shoulder left by her fingers. 

Of course, he was self-aware enough to realize that it was with Anna’s presence that his concerns had melted away. Her singular presence and no other meant fewer rules. They could be Anna and Edmund. They could sit a little too close. They could speak freely. Although Edmund would be the first to admit that the rules of propriety were there for a reason, and in this situation it would be best to follow them, he could not lie and say the close friendship or possibly something more he and Anna shared did not bring him great comfort here so far away from home. Perhaps it was time they discussed boundaries, only in doing so they would have to admit that there was something more between them, unspoken. 

He was seized by the thought that he might be the only one experiencing those feelings and had read too deeply into innocent actions. But surely she wouldn’t spend most of her evening in his presence if that was the case. His mind flashed to their harpsichord lesson earlier that evening, she wouldn’t allow them to sit so closely together, much closer than was appropriately. He wanted to reach up and rub at the spot on his shoulder but stopped himself.

“Restlessness has found us both then it seems.” She hesitated. “Would you mind terribly if I sat with you? In fact, I have come bearing gifts.” Did she truly think the pleasure of her company would ever be unwanted?

Anna lifted her hand, distracted as he was by his own thoughts, he had failed to notice that she had been holding a woolen blanket. He had forgotten about the chill outside. In fact, he had forgotten his coat and wig.

“Yes, of course!” He hastily gestured to her chair. Preoccupied with his own thoughts on propriety he had forgotten its most basic rule, offering the lady a seat. More gently he continued. “Or rather, I would not mind at all. Your company is always appreciated, Anna.” 

She gave him a suspiciously amused smile and stepped towards him instead of the chair, unfolding the blanket as she approached him and threw it over his head. Through his confusion and tugging at the blanket, Edmund heard soft giggling coming from in front of him.

“I thought you might be cold without your wig.” She continued laughing.

“Yes, quite. Although, I am not certain that this is the most practical way of - '' He stopped. Having pulled free of the blanket he was struck by the sight of Anna beaming at him in the moonlight. The beauty that came with her easy smile was comparable with the moon. It seemed to him that he was a moth, finding his way by her light. In fact, that was an apt description of his escape from captivity, he needn’t have returned to Setauket but she had lit the way. Words escaped his mouth, unbidden.

“You look lovely this evening, Anna.”

Had he had any less self-control his hands might have flown to his mouth, thankfully he was able to prevent further embarrassment by simply freezing. As it was, they looked at each other wide-eyed before Anna blushed and ducked her head, it was so reminiscent of earlier that evening that he remembered himself.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to say – Well, I do mean it. You do look lovely this evening. And every evening for that matter.” He stopped himself. “Forgive me, that was terribly forward of me.”

He looked away abruptly only to turn back when he heard familiar laughter. It seemed she had taken no offence, for which he was relieved.

“Thank you, Edmund.” Her giggling faded away leaving a soft gaze and an even softer voice to say, “Truly.”

Moving away from his blunder, he spoke again. “Join me, please.” Only then he realized he had not brought herself a blanket. “Oh, but you’ll be cold!” He rushed to push the blanket into her hands.

“I have my shawl.” She pulled the said shawl higher up to cover her neck.

“That isn’t enough, Anna.”

“Well, what solution do you offer?” Her eyes shined with apparent humour at the cyclic course of their conversation.

“You must take the blanket, Anna.” He offered her the blanket again. “It was my own foolishness that has me out here in my shirtsleeves.”

“It was foolish, yes.” Humour morphed into mischief. “ But I have a better solution.”

She moved to the other chair and bent down, clearly to lift it herself.

“What are you doing?” Edmund leapt out of his seat, throwing the blanket onto it. He didn’t wait for her reply before picking the chair up for her. He caught her look of exasperation but it was softened with a pleased smile. The chair wasn’t terribly heavy and she likely would have managed fine without his help but it would have hardly been appropriate to allow a lady to carry something when he was there to offer his services. “Now. Where shall I put this?”

“Next to your chair.” He placed the chair a respectable distance away from his own. “Closer.” She gave him a knowing look as he shifted the chair by just the smallest bit. “Closer.” One more shift.

“Honestly, Edmund. How do you expect us to share the blanket so far apart.”

Edmund stuttered. Abashed alarm prevented him from acting as he watched Anna take her chair from him and positioned it so that their arms were pressed together.

Placing her hands on her hips she turned to him with a bright smile she said, “there we go.” And a hand on his wrist she dragged him into his seat. “Now, let's gaze at those stars.”

* * *

The next morning, Edmund woke up to the warm memory of a cold hand, smaller than his own threading their fingers together under a woollen blanket and a comforting pressure on his shoulder.

He might have mistaken it for a dream if he hadn’t glanced out of his window to see two chairs, his and Anna’s, pressed together without a space between them. Normally, he would have worried about the rumours that would result from their indiscretion and the implications of the chair they forgot to return to its place, but he was far too consumed with the evening’s lingering bliss. Perhaps the chair could remain where it was.


End file.
